


Touch Starved

by crewdlydrawn



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Boys Being Assholes, During Canon, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Sarah Lieberman is mentioned, Touch-Starved, Unplanned Sex, a goy author uses a yiddish word, david's compound, in which David is bi and aware of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 17:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17902229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crewdlydrawn/pseuds/crewdlydrawn
Summary: Stranded for days in the underground compound, stir-craze and close-quarters begin to get to our two asshole heroes, and a tussle turns to something else.





	Touch Starved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Menirva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menirva/gifts).



To call it ‘accidental’ wouldn’t be quite accurate, or even fair, really. ‘Unintentional’ fit it much better. ‘Unexpected’, certainly. Whatever the term, the current situation—Frank Castle’s cock nearly bumping the back of his throat—wasn’t one he would have predicted in advance.

_In all fairness, he hadn’t even predicted Frank joining him at the underground compound he’d formed for himself, but if there was one thing David Lieberman was coming to understand about life, it was that all of the planning and imagination possible for an individual wasn’t enough to accurately predict the level of uncertainty and consequences life was capable of heaping onto a person. Not that that meant every random happenstance was implicitly BAD... just the majority of the ones that had dominated the last year or so of his life._

_This, though..._

A warm, rough hand waded through the mess of curls that hadn’t been properly washed in far too long in order to cradle the side of David’s head, and his distraction was brought back to focus. Realigned, his tongue sat more squarely beneath the weight of Frank’s shaft, able to reach more of its underside as it rocked slowly between his lips.

“Now that’s better,” rumbled Frank’s already half-mumbled voice from above him, calloused fingertips scritching against David’s scalp. “Swallow a little...”

Pulling back enough to temporarily clear his mouth, licking his lips and, regrettably in the moment, the already saliva-wet tip he’d let go, David clucked his tongue up at his unlikely roommate, instead. “Your kibitzing isn’t distracting at all, thanks,” he shot back, readjusting his elbows on the cot to get better control of his leverage. He had the upper hand, literally, laying out over Frank’s long-boned legs, plenty of real estate to offer contact if he so desired.

...Did he?

“Yeah, yeah,” was all he got in return, twitchy trigger fingers beckoning him back to the unplanned task he’d been after.

A reprimanding hum against heated skin, and David tasted salty precum on his tongue, returning to work.

_There hadn’t been any discussion of boundaries, or even of intentions. They had simply been stuck below ground for three straight days. No supply runs. No movement in their surveillance targets. No reason or safe avenue for advancement. The first day they had avoided one another. The second had been spent getting on each other’s nerves with small sounds, ‘needing’ the same space at the same time, moving the other’s belongings and staged areas. By the third, they could both be grateful—on some unconscious level—for concrete and soundproofing as they screamed and argued. It was petty, it was childish, and it had led to a skirmish that only left David unharmed for Frank’s restraint._

_The entanglement had also dropped them bodily back onto the cot, only by chance not the harsh impact of the bare, cold floor. Legs had tangled and tripped, arms and hands had grasped for purchase, though arguably David’s far more desperately, frantically, even if he’d never admit it. Disengaging limbs had proven difficult with each of them making their attempt from opposite directions and with opposing plans, and it hadn’t taken long for David’s body to find itself painfully aware of just how little physical contact he’d had in the last year. He missed Sarah terribly, but her body wasn’t there with him. Instead, a petty, bull-headed, ornery, nearly non-verbal asshole’s body had been next to his, half on and half beneath, warmth and quickened heartbeat greeting David’s fingers, all the same. His own pulse had risen in return, blood abandoning the aggression in his head as it flowed in a distinctively southern direction._

_Frank, damn him, had noticed almost before David had had a chance._

The swell of Frank’s palm rubbed over David’s ear, his fingers seeming undecided on whether they intended to tug at his hair or not. He was just fine with them electing not to. Twitchy hips were enough for him to contend with, even as he reset the angle of his own to allow one leg to rest over Frank’s, leaving opportunity for the other man’s knee to aim purposefully at his groin. It was maybe too much to hope for the hint to be taken in Frank’s distracted state, but only a light grasp of the other man’s upper calf was needed to get him on board. With a grunt from the effort to balance both sets of limbs with his mouth’s work, as well as from the new contact and pressure Frank’s all-too-well-directed leg, David set about keeping ahead of the guiding angle of Frank’s hand on the back of his head.

_It hadn’t been Frank who’d first changed the nature of the contact, and part of David really wished it had been. Instead, it had been his own spine that had curved towards the nearest warm body, it had been his hands that had grasped at denim and cotton by the fistful, and it had been his head that had leaned into the crook of a wide neck that smelled of sweat and gunpowder under the weak soap David had on-hand. He’d come across as desperate, he’d earned the vibration of a chuckle, which had only deepened when he’d hit his fist on Frank’s chest to get him to stop, and with barely a “shut up” uttered, it had been him who’d pushed Frank back against the cot and fumbled for the zipper on his jeans._

_Only a “take your time”, and a “ ‘s’alright” had come from Frank when David’s grip and dexterity failed him in favor of shaky fingers and jerky movements. That patience, maybe tempered with curiosity maybe just having been drilled into him, had only frustrated David and made it take even longer for him to get at Frank’s dick, which, encouragingly, had been half-hard by the time it was freed._

Craving contact but still overheated by it, David rolled onto his knees, Frank’s thigh straddled between, his own fingers pushing the other’s forearms to the side and pinning them—such as they could—out of his way. Blurry blond curls took up most of his peripheral vision as gravity claimed them, his neck canted to devote as much space to Frank’s cock as he could, but he could still tell when Frank’s restless hands flattened lightly over the cot’s surface.

“There you go,” murmured through a groan from Frank’s throat due to David grinding his hips downward along with a firmly applied suction. He’d sucked dick before, in time before Sarah, he didn’t need directions at every step, but he also didn’t feel like breaking stride to start trading insults again over the sparks of pleasure he was chasing. They’d likely go back to it soon enough, anyway.

So he abandoned Frank’s right arm in favor of grasping the side of his stomach, thumb crooked beneath the last of his ribs, not replacing him in his mind, but needing the more familiar motion and sensation to lead his nerves through to completion. Grinding one out with jeans-on-jeans had been a terrible idea, and he had a suspicion he’d find friction burns on his balls later, but in the moment, he didn’t care. Even the painful pinch now and then was better than months of his own hand or nothing at all, and he found himself almost wishing that Frank would pull at his hair instead of just letting it all slip through his fingers as his head bobbed up and down on his cock.

Little twitches through Frank’s stomach, hitches in his breathing, signaled he was close even before more verbal encouragements traveled along with the pleased rumbles. David quickened his own motions, trying—and failing—to time the downward drag of his hips with proper suction at the base of Frank’s cock, but it had been too long since he had had to coordinate in any similar fashion. Regardless, he finally felt that tug to his scalp, a fistful of hair caught in Frank’s grasp, his head tipped back as David lifted his to look, and to account for the cum shooting straight for the back of his throat he’d thankfully closed off just in time. He’d meant to spit that load out somewhere, but he’d snorted at the almost serene look that had crossed the stubborn asshole’s face, and found himself nearly choking on his jizz.

“Jesus, David...” Frank sat up as David coughed, well aware his face was turning red in the effort to convince his brain that he wasn’t, in fact, drowning in the small bit of fluid that had found the edge of his windpipe. A wide hand clapped him between the shoulder blades, and he had to wave Frank off as his breathing finally settled.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine, I’m fine.” Wiping a hand over his face, he sat back, only to remember too late that he was precariously perched on a knee joint, and slid sharply to the side which pitched him dramatically towards the floor.

Quick, strong hands had him by the shoulders before he could get far at all, and the same motion that pulled him back from that brink had him lifted clear of the cot, turned to face the opposite wall, with his back leaned against the heat of Frank’s chest. “I got you,” breathed out not even an inch from his ear, Frank’s breath unhurried as it reached his skin. A shiver ran through David’s shoulders, and he knew his face probably only got redder with embarrassment, but maybe nearly choking on cum at least hid that from being so obvious.

It wasn’t until those quick-responding hands were deftly dealing with the button and zipper on David’s jeans that he realized HE hadn’t finished in all the distraction during Frank’s climax.

“Your turn,” accompanied rough fingers wrapped around David’s cock, varying pressure as they stroked upward, unhurried. He had been so close, likely only a few well-placed grinds from shooting off, albeit inside his pants, but Frank didn’t seem in any hurry to even the playing field back up. In fact, he practically started the game over again with the tables turned, a solid arm across David’s waist, thumb and fingers up under his shirt and rubbing small circles over his skin in a soft, focused way that had David nearly jumping from his spot. It wasn’t bad, but it was so familiar, so gentle, so different from the quick, impulsive desperation that had fueled David’s attempt.

Damn Frank for showing him up like that.

“C’mon,” he tried, lifting his hips in time to Frank’s hand, in favor of a better thrust than the slow pull he’d received. All it got him was that free arm cinching downward even as his hips squirmed against the hold, his breath quickening for the small struggle, even more blood abandoning his skull to rush to his groin, no doubt thrumming beneath Frank’s very fingers while they kept that maddeningly even grip.

Frank didn’t even comment, didn’t need to, not with words when the tight hold that kept David from directing anything in the moment spoke for him just fine. It didn’t take long, even with that lighter touch, for all of David’s struggling to set himself off, orgasm bubbling up between Frank’s fingers that finally wrapped a full squeeze around his dick, wringing a reproachful moan from David’s throat.

“You’re such an asshole,” he accused with a raggedly recovering exhale and a shove to Frank’s arm. He was still catching his breath when they finally fully parted, side by side on the cot, at last untangled.

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank agreed. “You, too.”


End file.
